


I Put A Spell On You

by southsidestyle



Series: riverdale bingo: summer 2020 [5]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, But Betty Is Of Legal Age, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Dubious Consent, F/M, Hair-pulling, Kitchen Sex, Love Spell Goes Wrong, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Masturbation, Rough Sex, Side Jopaz, Squirting, Temperature Play, Unrequited Bughead, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:08:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27213184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/southsidestyle/pseuds/southsidestyle
Summary: “Love spells are hardly ever simple.” They’re sitting across from each other on Cheryl's bedroom floor. There are candles set up all around them, Jughead’s snake adorned jacket between them, covered in crystals, pebbles and leaves. “Free will is hard to manipulate, and matters of the heart even harder, even with as much power as I possess.”Betty doesn’t like the sound of that. “Are you saying this might not work?” she asks skeptically."I’m saying that it might not work as you want it to,” Cheryl elaborates calmly, with her eyes still closed. “Magic, even dark magic, does not like to be abused.”
Relationships: Betty Cooper/FP Jones II
Series: riverdale bingo: summer 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1902469
Comments: 10
Kudos: 174
Collections: Riverdale Bingo Summer 2020, Riverdale Kink Week





	I Put A Spell On You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cherryliqueur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryliqueur/gifts).



> Back with another Kink Week/Bingo fill (second to last one, as of now), and this time it features Betty again and is part of an exchange with the always amazing **cherryliqueur** , who gave me Betty, a choice of five guys, some Halloween themed prompts and a list of kinks, and this is the result. This is longer than my usual stuff, but it's half set up/plot so don't get too excited. But Betty/FP seems to be one of my more popular pairings, so I'm hoping any of my readers that have enjoyed them before enjoy this as well. 
> 
> -
> 
> [Riverdale Bingo, Summer 2020](https://southsidestyle.tumblr.com/bingo): Free Space.  
> [Riverdale Kink Week 2020](https://southsidestyle.tumblr.com/bingo): Fantasy's Come True.

Riverdale has always been a dark town. People like to pretend that Jason Blossom’s death fundamentally changed it somehow, but anyone that knows their history, knows that’s not true. 

Jason Blossom was not the first Riverdale resident to be murdered, and certainly not the first to die. There has always been death in Riverdale, just as there’s always been murder, and suffering and evil. 

But the one thing Betty Cooper was sure Riverdale didn’t have was magic. 

And yet here she is, standing outside of Thornhill on the night before Halloween, hoping against hope that the rumors about the Blossoms being witches are somehow true. 

Because if she’s going to get Jughead Jones to fall in love with her, she’s clearly going to need a little extra help.

\---

Cheryl Blossom answers the door with a big, fake smile on her face and ushers Betty up to her room without more than a hello.

Having never been inside the mansion before, Betty can’t deny that if witches are real, she’s pretty sure this is exactly the kind of place they’d live, so that’s kind of promising. She always wondered why Cheryl chose to stay in this haunted looking house after graduation instead of moving onto campus like most kids did—herself not included—but seeing just how massive the place is, she understands it a bit better, even if it's creepy.

They don’t run into any other Blossoms on their way, which Betty is grateful for, and Cheryl makes sure to lock her bedroom door as soon as they’re inside. 

All the usual pleasantries are skipped, thankfully, because Cheryl’s never been one for small talk, and they get right down to what they came here for. 

“Did you bring it?” the redhead questions as she moves around her room to gather some supplies. 

Betty doesn’t have to ask to know what she’s talking about. “Yeah, it didn’t take much convincing,” she explains with a smile as she pulls out the worn leather jacket that Jughead let her borrow from her back pack. 

She hadn’t even had to ask, actually; Betty just mentioned that she was cold while waiting outside for their professor to arrive at class and Jughead had offered it to her with a kind smile. 

For just that moment, it had felt like she was in one of those romantic movies she loves so much, where the Bad Boy finally sees the Girl Next Door, and she wondered if she even needed to go through with her plans with Cheryl after all. 

But then Jughead’s attention had been stolen by Toni Topaz in all of her leather, plaid and crop topped glory like it has been since sophomore year of high school, and all it ended up doing was serving as a reminder of why she needed to do this. 

It’s been years and Jughead still doesn’t see her as anything more than the goody two shoes Betty Cooper he grew up with and the only way that will ever change is if some miracle were to happen. 

Or, as she so brilliantly thought of last week, magic.

And again, Betty has never really bought into the town wide rumors that the Blossoms are some Devil worshipping witches, because Betty is a realist and witches aren’t real, but she figures it can’t hurt to at least try. 

The fact that Cheryl Blossom even agreed to help her might be proof enough that magic is real, though Betty’s pretty sure she’s helping less out of the goodness of her heart and more due to the fact that she’s obviously as into Toni Topaz as Betty is into Jughead, and breaking those two up is just as much in her interest as it is in Betty’s. 

Which does beg the question, why hasn’t Cheryl already used her powers to win Toni over if she has any?

“Love spells are hardly ever simple,” the redhead answers Betty’s unasked question a little while later, when they’re sitting across from each other on her bedroom floor. There are candles set up all around them, Jughead’s snake adorned jacket between them, covered in crystals, pebbles and leaves. “Free will is hard to manipulate, and matters of the heart even harder, even with as much power as I possess.”

Betty doesn’t like the sound of that. “Are you saying this might not work?” she asks skeptically; it sounds very convenient, if you ask her.

"I’m saying that it might not work as you want it to,” Cheryl elaborates calmly, with her eyes still closed; she’s trying to harness her magic or something. “Magic, even dark magic, does not like to be abused.”

It’s obviously supposed to serve as a warning, one last chance for Betty to back out of doing this, but she’s not at all deterred. Maybe if she was truly convinced this was all real, she’d be a bit more worried of the possible ways this could go wrong, but it’s hard to be scared of hypothetical consequences when the hypothetical rewards are still questionable. 

Besides, as she closes her eyes herself and thinks of Jughead, Betty’s sure that as long as this gets her him, anything else that comes along with it will be worth it. 

“You’re not gonna talk me out of this, Cheryl,” Betty confirms steadily, reaching for the other girl’s pale hands to complete the circle around Jughead’s jacket. “I want Jughead, and if this is the only way to get him, then it’s worth the risk.”

Her declaration is followed by a moment of silence, and just when the blonde worries that Cheryl’s going to back out and make the decision for her, the Blossom girl squeezes her hands tighter instead. 

“All right, but don't say I didn't warn you,” she replies softly, something underlining her tone that Betty can’t quite read. It’s either trepidation or amusement, she’s not sure. “Then stay quiet and hold on; this might hurt.”

Betty nods and holds her breath, ready to endure whatever she has to in order to finally make the man of her dreams fall in love with her.

\---

“How will I know if it worked?” she asks Cheryl after the spell is done and she’s ready to get the hell out of this spooky place.

Cheryl just smiles, her large mouth painted red and curled up creepily. “Oh, trust me, you’ll know,” she purrs, and there’s a glint in her eye that Betty can just barely make out in the dim light of their hallway entrance. 

Betty doesn’t think she wants to know what that’s about.

“Well, thanks, Cheryl,” the blonde says before she reaches for the door handle, turning back to give Cheryl a more sincere smile of her own, even if it’s premature. 

The redhead just smiles wide and wiggles her fingers in what’s supposed to be a wave, and Betty feels her eyes watching her all the way down the pathway.

\---

The spell doesn’t work.

It’s the next day, and it might be too premature to say that, considering it's not even lunch yet, but Jughead has seen her twice and hasn’t looked at her any differently either time, so Betty thinks it’s safe to call bullshit.

Jughead doesn’t come to classes dressed as anything—he’s too cool to wear Halloween costumes in college, Betty isn’t surprised to find out—while Toni is wearing some skimpy little outfit she probably got from the kids’ section of the local costume shop, that she would guess is probably supposed to be a nurse. 

“I knew this was bullshit,” she reminds herself as she watches Jughead and Toni making out from across the campus courtyard.

“Ye of little faith,” a voice immediately responds from behind her, almost making her jump out of her skin. 

Betty doesn’t even look away from Jughead’s hand on Toni’s ass when Cheryl sidles up beside her. “Your spell didn’t work.”

“Says who?” Cheryl counters, and when Betty finally looks over at her, she’s sporting that same smirk and glint she was the night before. 

“Says Jughead’s tongue down Toni’s throat.”

The Blossom girl clicks her own tongue in disagreement. “Just give it a little more time,” she instructs as she starts to leave as suddenly and stealthily as she came. “Magic just takes a little while to reveal itself sometimes. Come with me to the Halloween party at the Whyte Wyrm tonight, and I promise you won’t go to bed disappointed. Pick you up at nine. Toodles!”

With that, she’s slinking off to go make someone cry, no doubt, leaving a dejected and disappointed Betty to watch Toni and Jughead on her own.

\---

Betty has no idea why she agreed to go with Cheryl tonight, but as the girl parks her red convertible outside the crowded Serpent bar, she knows it’s too late to back out now. 

She brought Jughead’s jacket with her though, so at least she’ll have some excuse to talk to him tonight when she gives it back. Maybe Toni won’t even be hanging off of him this time, but she’s not holding her breath on that one.

They walk into the biker bar together, looking out of place even in their matching school girl costumes that are pretty revealing, at least for Betty’s standards. She can feel eyes on them immediately, but it only seems to bother her.

Cheryl is soaking the attention up, just as she always does, and as much as Betty wishes she could do that—thinks maybe if she could, then maybe Jughead would look at _her_ the same way all the men in the bar are looking at Cheryl—but it’s just not her.

Nobody ever notices Betty, not for anything good, anyways, and usually that’s okay with her—more than okay, really—but just this once, with just this one guy, she wishes he would. 

But as her own eyes scan the bar, and she finds Jughead in the corner with Toni straddling his lap and shoving her tongue down his throat again, she knows it’s not very likely. 

“He just needs to look at you, _really_ look at you,” Cheryl had sworn when she explained how this was all supposed to work. “Once he finally takes his eyes off that annoyingly delectable goddess he somehow managed to trick into dating him, he’ll look at you and it will finally just _click_.”

It had all sounded like a beautiful fairytale to her, but as she watches the couple practically round second in this crowded bar, Betty has no idea how that’s ever gonna happen. 

\---

Jughead does eventually come up for air (and drinks) and finds Betty and Cheryl at the bar when he comes to place his order.

“Betty, hey,” he greets her, barely even bothering to take in her costume. “You’re about the last person I expected to see here tonight.” His eyes move to the redhead by Betty’s side. “Other than you, Cheryl.”

Cheryl just makes a noise of agreement around the straw in her mouth, too interested in seeing how this plays out to interrupt the conversation. 

Not knowing what else to say, Betty grabs for the leather jacket folded on her lap and practically shoves it into Jughead’s chest. “We came to give you your jacket back,” she explains awkwardly, barely able to look at him because she suddenly feels really stupid in his presence. “I forgot to bring it to class with me today.”

“Oh yeah, fuck, thanks,” Jughead replies sincerely, and if he picks up on her weirdness, he’s nice enough not to mention it. “I was wondering where this was, I forgot I gave it to you yesterday.” Betty’s heart breaks a little at the confirmation that a moment that was so big to her, was so completely forgettable for him. “Well, thanks for coming all the way here to bring it back,” he says again. “My dad would’ve killed me if I lost his jacket.”

Betty’s too lost in her sorrow to pick up on his words, but Cheryl doesn’t miss them. “I’m sorry, that’s your _father’s_ jacket?”

“Yeah,” he nods, slipping the worn leather around his shoulders easily. “Well, it used to be. They gave it to me when I first joined, before I went through the whole initiation process and got my own, but I still wear it sometimes, to honor his legacy as Serpent King.”

“I see,” Cheryl replies tightly, but says nothing else.

There’s a moment of awkward silence that’s thankfully broken up when the bartender comes back with Jughead’s drinks. 

“Well, better get back to my lady,” he grins, his eyes lighting up at the mere mention of Toni. The way they were supposed to light up when he saw Betty. “You girls have fun tonight.”

They both mumble replies as he walks off and Betty’s so dejected that she doesn’t even watch him walk away; she knew magic and Cheryl’s powers and this whole thing was a huge long shot, yet she let herself have hope and now she’s more miserable than ever. 

Happy Halloween to her.

“You didn’t tell me that it was Jughead’s father’s jacket,” Cheryl says once they’re alone.

Betty scoffs. “How was I supposed to know?” 

"You don't think the spell worked on Sheriff Jones, do you?"

"No, I don't," Betty snaps, annoyed that Cheryl is still trying to play her or make excuses now that the truth is undeniable. "I don't think it worked at all, because none of it is real!"

"It is!" the redhead insists, sounding annoyed herself. "My powers are real. It's not _my_ fault _you_ brought me a personal object that belongs to someone else!"

"Whatever, let's just get out of here," the blonde sighs as she slips off her barstool. She's really not in the mood to argue about this. "This whole thing was stupid."

Cheryl looks like she wants to stay for some reason, but one glance at Betty's impatient face has her reluctantly agreeing to leave.

\---

Apparently there's a Halloween party at Reggie Mantle's frat house that Cheryl wants to go to, but Betty's not interested, and not just because she wasn’t invited. The last thing she wants to do is be around people; she just wants to go home and pout, maybe watch some classic horror movies on the couch while she eats a whole carton of ice cream by herself.

Cheryl thankfully doesn't try to convince her to change her mind this time, but does try to offer to drive her home even though the frat house is between the Whyte Wyrm and hers.

"I'll be fine walking," Betty insists, even though it's late, dark and all the trick or treaters have long since gone home. She just kinda doesn’t want to be around Cheryl any longer than she has to be in her current mood.

"Are you sure?" Cheryl looks reluctantly to let Betty walk on her own, but her eyes keep drifting towards the noisy house, and it's obvious the offer is out of obligation.

Betty nods and offers the other girl a tight smile. "I'll be fine. Goodnight, Cheryl."

_Thanks for nothing._

\---

Betty makes it about halfway to her house before she starts to feel weird.

She hasn't seen anyone since she left campus, and while the streetlamps and the Halloween decorations set up outside people's houses provide enough light for Betty to find her way easily, there's still enough darkness around to scare her.

The fact that she can hear a car slowly driving behind her—one she's too scared to turn around and check out—doesn't help matters at all.

And just as she's considering making a run for it, the car suddenly speeds up a little to fall into stride with her.

"Betty Cooper?" a voice calls out from inside and Betty's entire body immediately relaxes when she realizes who it is.

"Hi, Sheriff Jones," she greets him meekly, suddenly very aware of what she's wearing. But she’d rather be talking to Jughead’s dad wearing this than a possible serial killer or something.

"What are you doing out here by yourself at this hour?" he asks, pulling the car to a stop as he leans over the center console to see Betty through the passenger side window.

"I-I was just walking home."

"Well, get in, I'll drive you the rest of the way," he offers, but it sounds more like an order to her.

"Really, I'm okay, it's not fa—" she tries to insist, but he's not hearing it.

"Your mother would kill me if I let you walk alone," he cuts in, leaning over further in the car to pop the passenger side door open for her. "Hop in."

Sighing to herself, Betty finally relents and gets into the squad car. "Thanks, Sheriff," she mumbles after getting her seat belt on, turning to offer her crush's father a grateful smile, only to be met with a look she's not expecting.

"It's my pleasure," he promises, more flirty than friendly. He sends her a wink and casually places a hand on her bare thigh like they're that familiar with each other, before he turns to start driving in the direction of the Cooper house.

Betty sits stock still and holds her breath the entire way.

\---

The hand on Betty's thigh has crept even further up by the time the car pulls up outside of her house, and she practically tries to throw herself out the door as soon as they park.

"Thanks again, Sheriff Jones," she tells him in a haste, struggling to undo the belt strapped around her.

"Please, Betty, call me FP," he insists in a sugary sweet voice, still not removing his hand.

The blonde forces a smile in his direction as the belt finally pops free and she's able to get the door open. "Okay, thanks, FP." She stumbles out from under his hand and out of the car, but the relief she feels is short-lived when she hears him opening his own door on the other side. "What are you—?"

"I know your mom's out of town on a story," FP explains, slamming the drivers' side door shut and making his way around the front of the car to stand with Betty. "And my shift's done for the night. I'll keep you company. There's a lot of troublemakers out here on Halloween night."

He's reaching a hand out to place on her waist, and just as Betty's about to slap it away and pull out her mace, she catches the look in his eye in the streetlight, and finally places the emotions she sees there—they're not scary.

There's nothing predatory in FP's eyes, despite what his insistent actions might suggest; there’s desire and passion there, but an almost pure kind, like how she spent all of high school wishing Jughead would look at her…

And as a soft smile tugs on his lips, Betty remembers the earlier conversation in the bar; Jughead saying the jacket is his father's and the question Cheryl had that she completely brushed off and, _oh shit_.

"Wait here," she suddenly tells FP, awkwardly slipping out of his hold and reaching for her cell phone. He tries to follow her as she steps away, but she holds a hand up and then he stops, like he's a well trained dog.

Well, that’s good to know, at least.

Putting enough space between them, Betty calls Cheryl and hopes to God she answers even though she's at a party.

And on the fifth ring, thankfully, she does. "Cheryl Bombshell speaking."

"Cheryl, thank God," Betty practically cries in relief.

"Betty?" she questions, barely heard over the loud music playing in the background. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I think," the blonde admits, risking a glance back at the man who's watching her intently, but still staying put. "But I have a problem."

"Which is?"

"Sheriff Jones picked me up and I think you were right."

There's a pause on the other end of the phone that's so long Betty might have thought Cheryl had hung up if she couldn't hear the sounds of Reggie's party still. "What exactly do you mean?" Cheryl eventually asks slowly.

"I _mean_ , I think you were right about the spell working on Jughead's dad instead of him," Betty hisses lowly, and even though it sounds like she's blaming Cheryl, she's not really. She knows this isn't really her fault, and considering she had no way of knowing the jacket was actually FP’s, she couldn’t have done this deliberately, either.

"Seriously?" But that doesn’t mean Betty likes how amused Cheryl sounds either.

"Yes, seriously!" she exclaims. "He wouldn't take no for an answer when he offered to drive me home, and now he's insisting on coming in with me to keep me safe, and he's looking at me like I'm his sun and his stars!"

"Aw, how precious," the redhead coos.

" _Cheryl!_ " If Betty could strangle her, she would. "This isn't funny and this isn't cute. Fix this!"

The other girl is just straight out laughing now. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"I don't know, you're the witch!" Betty retorts, finally admitting that truth to herself. "Undo it!"

"I cannot _undo_ it, not without the jacket, at least," Cheryl informs her, and she at least has the decency to sound a little apologetic about that.

"Are you serious?" Betty whines, looking back at FP once again. "There's no way to get him to leave me alone?"

It's not like she's afraid of him—not anymore at least, now that she knows what's going on with him and that he listens to physical boundaries—but that doesn't mean she wants to spend all night with him in her house either.

There's another pause on the other end of the line and then a telling, " _Well..._ "

"Well _what?_ " Betty demands, even though she already knows she won't like the answer.

"You could always give him what he wants," Cheryl suggests, making it clear just what she means.

Betty gapes at the suggestion. " _What?_ " she hisses. "You think I should sleep with him?"

"The spell breaks when the desires of both parties have been met."

"What kind of love spell is that?" Betty asks in disbelief. 

"Well, technically it's more of a _lust_ spell," Cheryl clarifies. "As I told you, love spells are dangerous and complicated; this seemed easier."

" _Cheryl!_ "

"Plus, I thought maybe if you just got laid, you'd get Hobo Jones out of your system," she justifies further. “But I figured you wouldn’t give it up easily and I didn’t want the spell to wear off while he waited, so…”

Suddenly Betty's plans for Cheryl's death get a lot messier than simple choking. "I'm going to kill you."

"That seems a little drastic," Cheryl replies, still sounding far too amused. "But seriously, consider this, dear Betty: you want to change the way Jughead sees you, correct? Nothing changes a girl's image faster than losing her virginity."

"To his _dad_?!" Betty exclaims in disbelief, not bothering to correct Cheryl’s assumption about her virginity—it’s not like she’s far off.

"He doesn't have to know that, and FP probably won’t even remember it in the morning," Cheryl counters, just before her name is called from somewhere in the party. "Look, I have to go, Betty, but think about it; you'd be killing two birds with one piece of ass. Toodles!"

And just like that, Cheryl leaves Betty to clean up their mess alone.

\---

Betty ends up inviting FP inside because she worries he’ll just stand outside her house the whole night if she doesn’t, and that’s even less appealing to her than being able to keep an eye on him inside. 

She tells him to have a seat on the couch, which he does, and then offers him a drink, which he accepts. 

Which then finally gives Betty a few minutes to herself to contemplate what she’s gotten herself into and her options for getting out of it. Not that she seems to have many options, according to Cheryl.

She can either wait and hope to somehow steal the jacket for long enough for Cheryl to reverse the spell she cast, or she can give FP what he wants and end this whole thing tonight. 

The latter had seemed like such a ridiculous solution when Cheryl had suggested it, but the more she considers it… is it really? 

Or does it just seem like a ridiculous one because she’s still that perfect, good girl next door Betty Cooper from Riverdale High? Would fucking FP—especially for a good reason—be so wild an idea for someone like Toni Topaz? Someone Jughead would like?

Betty doesn’t think so.

Besides, despite what Cheryl—and most people from high school, probably—thinks, she’s not actually a virgin; she went out with Trev Brown for a few weeks during her junior year, which was long enough for her to have slept with him a couple times. 

So while Betty is hardly what most would consider experienced for nineteen—certainly not as much as _Toni Topaz_ —she thinks she has enough to make the idea of having sex with FP at least somewhat plausible. 

And wow, she’s actually considering this, isn’t she?

She always knew that the only realistic, non-magical, way to get Jughead’s affection would be to change herself, and it wasn’t that Betty was above that, since it’s not as if she likes herself or her current image all that much anyways and what's college good for it not reinventing yourself, but it was the fact that that seemed like a lot of work. And makeovers are so transparent anyways. 

But this… maybe this is exactly the kind of thing that would actually change her into someone Jughead would actually look twice at. 

Even if nobody ever finds out about this, surely it’s impossible to have wild sex with the town sheriff and not be fundamentally changed as a person, right? 

Before Betty can really think about it further, she suddenly feels two arms slip around her waist to pull her back against a hard body and squeeze. 

“You’re taking so long in here,” FP mumbles into her neck, as if they’re a domesticated married couple and this is a nightly occurrence. 

And even though she tenses on instinct at first, it’s in that moment that Betty makes her decision, and it’s WWTTD? 

Forgetting all about the drinks she came in here to make, she turns around in FP’s arms and pulls him into a sloppy kiss.

The man doesn’t miss a beat, kissing her back hungrily, and as his hands move down from her waist to grab her ass underneath her plaid schoolgirl skirt, she knows this isn’t going to be anything like it was with Trev.

\---

Betty moans as the back of her head hits the cupboard cabinets, but it’s not from pain.

FP’s mouth is rough and hot around her breast, his teeth grazing over her perky pink nipple before he’s closing his lips around it and sucking. 

She wraps her own legs around his waist to keep him against her, while his other hand squeezes the tit that’s not in his mouth, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger so it’s hard and ready for when he switches his oral attention over to it.

Betty’s soaked through her underwear already, just from getting her nipples sucked, so when she feels FP releasing her breasts and kissing downwards, she’s practically throbbing by the time his lips are on her inner thighs.

“An eager little girl, aren’t we?” he grins after getting his first taste of Betty’s arousal from the sticky skin beneath his lips.

She whines in response, her cheeks flushing pink in both embarrassment and horniess; she’s never felt this way before—even in her more x-rated dreams—and they’re barely even getting started. 

Betty’s starting to wonder if Cheryl put a spell on her too.

“ _Please_ ,” she begs, brushing her fingers through his slicked back hair until they’re gripping the back of his head and trying to urge him forward. 

FP grins. “Please what?” he taunts her as he slowly pulls her panties down her pale legs. “Tell me what you want, Betty.”

She expects her embarrassment to increase—to feel awkward having to say it aloud—but somehow, the words come out with ease. “I want your mouth on me,” Betty crows, shimmying forward on the kitchen counter top. “I want to feel your tongue inside- _oh!_ ”

The rest of her request gets lost in a moan as FP obliges her, licking a swift stripe up the full length of her slit and making her shudder.

Betty’s never been eaten out before, and no matter how many times she fantasized about FP’s son doing exactly this to her, she never imagined it’d feel this good. 

“You taste as amazing as I always knew you would,” he tells her with an impish grin, swiping his tongue over his lips, and Betty tries not to wonder if that’s just the spell talking or if FP really has imagined this moment before.

Her nails dig into FP’s scalp as he goes in for seconds, first pulling her closer to the edge of the counter and then pushing her thighs further apart so he has more room to work.

The stubble of his cheeks against her sensitive skin is a stark contrast to the softness of his tongue licking through her folds, but Betty loves both feelings—she loves it all. 

And most of all, she can tell FP loves it too, with how enthusiastic his tongue is. Betty doesn’t know if it’s the spell or it’s just something the man likes to do, but as long as he keeps making her feel this good, she doesn’t really care.

He keeps alternating between focusing on her clit and her hole, fucking her shallowly with his tongue for a few moments before he’s licking up through her folds to get back to her aching bud, where he sucks it into his mouth and traces letters and shapes against it. 

Eventually that’s where he settles his mouth while pumping a finger, and then a second one, into her needy cunt to keep her filled. 

FP is so good that Betty’s sure either would be enough to get her off, but with both his fingers and his tongue working together, he works her up in no time at all; before she knows it, the counter isn’t the only edge she’s teetering off of.

“Oh God, more,” she begs, just needing a little something extra to give her that last push she needs, but she doesn’t know what.

All of this is so new to Betty that she barely even knows what she wants, let alone needs, but thankfully FP is more than experienced for the both of them, and knows enough for her. 

Because suddenly he’s curling his fingers and pressing into some spot deep inside her that acts like some kind of activation button, because it immediately sets her off.

Betty’s entire body tenses as her orgasm starts, and then she’s shaking uncontrollably, her thighs clamping around FP’s head as tightly as the walls of her pussy do around his fingers. She holds onto his head for dear life as she sways on the counter top, convinced she’d fall right off if he wasn’t kneeling in front of her. 

Trev never managed to really make her come, at least not without her help, and it’s never felt this intense when she’s made herself come either. 

It really must be magic.

\---

By the time Betty’s toes have completely uncurled, FP has finished giving her soaked pussy soft kitten licks, and gotten back to his feet to crack open that beer she had come in here to get. 

She stays slumped against on the counter, white shirt ripped open so her tits are hanging out and her legs spread lewdly so her sex remains completely exposed to the man standing in front of her. 

Betty always thought she’d feel embarrassed and exposed during sex with someone so much more experienced than her (or Trev), but sitting here casually like this, being looked at the way FP is looking at her, she just feels sexy.

“You should touch yourself for me,” FP suggests as he takes a sip of his beer, a smirk twisting his lips around the lid as his gaze moves from Betty’s flushed face to her wet cunt. 

It doesn’t come out as much of an order, but Betty still obeys his words like they are, bringing her delicate fingers between her legs to play with the puffy, sopping folds of her pussy. 

FP takes a seat in one of the chairs at the kitchen island while he watches her, his dark brown eyes following the movement of her fingers, trailing up and down her slit teasingly before stopping at her clit to rub it in light circles.

He just sits and watches at first, drinking his beer while Betty’s little whimpers fill the kitchen, but eventually one of his hands move to his own crotch, and he’s unzipping his uniform pants to pull out his half hard cock. 

Then he starts stroking himself with lazy tugs, like he’s doing it more out of habit or for something to do, and less to get himself to full length. Which makes sense, because Betty’s pretty sure he’ll want her to do that for him. 

They sit and watch each other touch themselves for long minutes, the only sound in the whole house the moans they can’t bite back. 

Even though FP is watching her hands, Betty tries to keep her gaze on his face as she tightens the coil in her belly, but it isn’t long before green eyes drop down and she really lets herself take in the sheer size of his cock. 

God, how is she going to fit that thing inside of her?

But just as she starts to imagine it, the sound of FP slamming his empty beer bottle onto the counter breaks Betty’s concentration and rips her eyes away from his dick as he releases it. 

She opens her mouth to ask why he stopped, but quickly shuts it again when she sees him reaching for the glass of ice water she had managed to pour for herself before he’d sneaked up behind her earlier.

Somehow, Betty immediately knows exactly what he’s going to do before he even scoops the ice cubes out of the cup—she watches more porn than she’d like to admit.

“Lookin’ a little hot there, Betty,” he smirks, closing the distance between them. He pops one cube into his mouth as he settles between her spread legs again, while taking the other one between two fingers and carefully pressing it against her exposed, rising chest.

The sudden coldness causes Betty’s body to jerk, but FP holds her in place with his other hand as he continues to trailing the freezing cold block of ice along her already damp skin.

“Sheriff Jones,” she hisses immediately, trying not to pull away from the sensation.

FP tsks her, rolling the ice in his mouth aside so he can speak to her. “What did I tell you about calling me that, Betty?”

Swallowing thickly, Betty nods and grits her teeth. “FP,” she corrects herself. 

“Mmm, that doesn’t sound quite right either,” he hums, gaze flickering down to where he’s moving the ice cube to one of her boobs, mouth tugging up as he circles her nipple with it. “How about you try calling me _Daddy_.”

Betty whimpers at his request—and a little at the feeling of the ice cold sensation against her already rock hard nipple—feeling even more like she’s stepped into a porn scene. 

“D-Daddy,” she gasps out like he wants, testing the name on her tongue—thankfully it’s not something she ever called her own shitty father. “Please stop teasing.”

FP tilts his head in amusement as he pulls the cube away from Betty’s chest and moves it down the middle of her stomach, slowly enough so that it leaves a trail of condensation in its wake. 

The blonde tenses the closer the cube gets to where she knows its destination is, and as much as she doesn’t want to, she lets the man bat her hand out of the way so he has a clear path to her core.

Gripping the counter’s edge and biting her lip in anticipation doesn’t do anything to stop the sharp yelp Betty lets out as soon as the freezing cold water from the melting ice reaches her clit. 

“Jesus Christ,” she cries, squeezing her eyes shut and instinctively trying to do the same with her legs, but FP’s body is blocking her attempt. “Fuck, that feels…” 

Betty’s not sure how to describe it; it hurts and burns, but not in a bad way. Mostly, she’s just glad that he’s keeping the actual ice off her lady bits, because just the water is more than enough.

Or at least she thinks so, before he crouches down between her legs again, and uses his freezing cold tongue to lap up the water dripping through her folds. She loses it pretty shortly after that, the heightened temperature too much for her to take without combusting. 

The counter top is soaking wet when FP finally helps Betty down from it five minutes later, but it’s hard to tell if it’s more from the melted ice or her own arousal.

\---

Betty finally feels a little more in her element when she sinks down to her knees and takes FP’s cock into her mouth, because this is at least something she’s done before. 

Of course giving Trev a quick blowjob on his twin sized bed isn’t quite the same as blowing the town sheriff and his beer can sized cock in the middle of her living room, but as she said before, experience is still experience. 

That experience doesn’t help her with immediately choking on FP’s dick, but she’s still learning. And FP seems to like it anyways, judging by the way he starts thrusting his hips and shoving his meat down her throat so she’ll gag again.

He made her tie her hair up in her signature ponytail when they left the kitchen, and as he curls it around his fist to help easily position and move her head, Betty understands why.

It hurts when the tip of his cock pokes at the back of her throat, and even more so when she loses her breath, but Betty can see how much FP is enjoying it and that makes her feel this weird sense of pride, even though she’s pretty much just kneeling here and letting him use her mouth as a fuck toy. 

Either way, she’s still the one making FP Jones feel _this_ good, and when he finally gives her throat a break and pulls his spit slicked dick out, Betty doesn’t hesitate to take his balls into her mouth when he sits down in one of the chairs and tells her to.

She has less of an idea of what she’s doing now, but she’s a quick learner, and she’s sure FP will be happy to teach her anything she doesn’t know. 

And as Betty reaches up to start stroking the massive shaft above her as she moves her attention from one fleshy sack to the other—sounds sexy, she knows, but that’s all she can think of them as right now, as she rolls them around in her mouth—she wonders whose desires this spell was really meant to fulfill. 

\---

After coming down Betty’s throat, watching her swallow it, and then making her get him hard again, FP finally lets her off her knees, only to drape her over the arm of the couch, with her ass in the air.

Betty’s plaid skirt is still technically around her waist, but it’s flipped up over her back so she’s completely exposed to the man once again, but she doesn’t blush this time—seems kind of silly after drinking his entire load like it was nothing. 

“Have you ever been fucked, Betty?” he asks as she palms both of her round asscheeks, squeezing them and pulling them apart to get a better view of both of her holes from his higher angle. 

Betty nods against the cushion of the couch. “Y-yes, Daddy.”

“Mmm, by a _man_?” he wonders, thumb teasing her tight little rim lightly, but just enough to cause her to tense. “Not in the ass, I take it?”

“N-no,” Betty breathes out, answering both questions at once before she holds her breath as FP continues to probe her asshole. 

It really wasn’t what Betty was expecting—at any point this evening—to happen tonight, but she surprises herself by not immediately objecting, knowing FP is bound by magic to listen. 

She’s not exactly enthusiastically signing up for it just yet either, but she’s not taking it off the table entirely; being open and taking a risk has gotten her this far tonight, no reason to stop yet.

FP must sense her slight hesitation, because soon enough, he’s moving his attention further down and running his fingers through her damp folds again. “We’ll start here, though,” he assures her, taking the same route through her a few times before he settles on her clit and gives it a rub. “How does that sound?”

“Good,” Betty quickly moans out, reaching for a pillow to hug. “So, so good, Daddy.”

She can practically hear FP’s satisfied smirk when he replies, “Now that’s what I like to hear,” just as he removes his fingers and places the tip of his fat cock to her aching entrance after running it up and down her slit enough to get it wet.

Betty sucks in a breath and holds it again as FP starts to slow feed her inch by inch of his cock, and as long as it is, it’s the width that really does it for her, stretching her cunt wide until he’s buried inside her to the hilt.

“Does that feel _good,_ baby?” he wonders as his hands encircle her waist and he holds her on his dick—not that she was trying to get away at all, no matter how full she feels.

It feels weird and it hurts a little, but more than anything, it really does just feel _so good_ , so Betty nods mutely, letting the whine that escapes her throat speak for itself, and braces herself as FP starts to pull out of her.

Her cunt is still not quite used to the size the second time around, but by around the tenth stroke, Betty feels less of a stretch, and soon enough, once she’s lost count, any trace of pain is gone too.

Now, it’s nothing but pleasure, even as FP picks up the pace of his thrusting and changes from long strides to short ones, so he’s almost snapping his hips against her ass everytime he stuffs Betty full of his cock. 

He grabs for her ponytail again at some point, retwisting it in his fist so he can pull her upper body off the couch and arch her backwards as he fucks her so hard that the couch slowly starts to slide along the carpet covering the hardwood floor. 

“Do you like this, Betty?” FP grunts from behind her as he continues to cant into her, his cock somehow finding a way to hit a spot deeper and deeper inside of her each time. “Taking Daddy’s big cock like such a good girl?”

Betty nods, words caught in her throat like she’s got his cock in there still, but when he gives her hair a harsh tug, she knows that’s not a good enough answer for FP. “Yes, Daddy!” she instantly obliges, the words tumbling out alongside a moan. “Yes, Daddy, fuck, I love it so much.”

It’s nothing like it was with Trev, or even how she imagined it would be with FP, back when he was looking at her all lovesickly outside her house, and it’s those thoughts that have her briefly wondering how fucking Jughead’s dad compares to fucking him.

But then FP is reaching underneath her and rubbing her clit again, and Betty’s coming too hard to think about anything else. 

Her whole body shudders with pleasure from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair, and this time, Betty knows for sure that the clear liquid that soaks the couch’s arm beneath her all comes from her. 

\---

Betty doesn’t bother asking FP why he carries lube around with him in the pocket of his sheriff’s jacket or even car, because she figures it doesn’t really matter, as long as he does. 

It didn’t take as much convincing—or any, actually—when the time came for FP to switch holes, they just kind of silently agreed that they were going for it when FP took a seat on the couch and pulled Betty in front of him so he could get her ready.

Once she’s stretched and they’re both lubed up, FP lines Betty up onto his cock, holding her waist to keep her steady as she carefully guides the slick shaft back towards her tight virgin hole and slowly sinks down onto it. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” she mutters over and over again as she impales herself deeper and deeper onto FP’s cock. 

This is a whole different kind of pain then having him in her cunt was, and she can only get about half way before she has to start pulling herself off. 

But FP is patient with her, and very encouraging, offering her sweet platitudes and praise everytime she takes a little bit more of him, until she finally bottoms out and she’s sitting snugly on his dick.

“I knew you could do it, baby girl,” he coos, brushing her ponytail aside so he can press open mouthed kisses to her shoulder and then all the way up the side of her neck. 

He reaches around her to rub her clit once again, and Betty lets out a little sigh of relief when it helps her relax her vice grip around his cock a little bit. 

They just sit there like that for a little while, letting the girl get adjusted to the brand new sensation, until she feels FP slowly start to rock her body in his lap. It’s not much, just the slightest of movements to start, but it’s enough for her to notice and _feel_.

She just goes with it though, because it only hurts a little bit now and she trusts the sheriff to know how to make her feel good, because so far he’s done a magnificent job. 

As the rocking picks up pace, FP’s hand moves further down, until he’s cupping Betty’s whole cunt in his large palm again; the heel of his hand rubbing against her clit while he hooks two fingers into her empty hole. 

With such a good grip on her, Betty knows he’s about to turn it up a notch, and she braces herself just in time for him to slide forward on the couch until his ass is hanging over the edge, so he can start pumping his hips up into her. 

It’s a whole new sensation now, and she’s not sure how much it would do to get her off if he wasn’t also playing with her pussy, but she knows it must feel amazing for him, and that’s what she finds she cares most about right now. 

Again, it’s that knowledge that she, innocent little Betty Cooper, is controlling Sheriff Jones’ pleasure the way she is, that really gets her off; he wants her, so badly she can’t believe it’s all just because of some stupid spell, and that makes Betty feel all kinds of powerful—almost a little bit like a witch herself. 

By the time FP’s thrusts start getting a little sloppy, and the breath he’s huffing into her ear gets more ragged, signalling how close he is, Betty’s own orgasm is approaching too. 

Spreading her legs and placing her feet on FP’s knees so she can really feel him in both holes, Betty starts rocking her body herself, hoping to catch up with him so that they can both come one last time together. 

And less than a minute later, that’s exactly what they do; a mess of throbbing, clenching, and grunting, they come together, moaning each other’s names. 

Betty gets to experience one last first of the night as FP spurts his thick load into the right canal of her ass, and it’s yet another feeling she has to get used to, but decides she likes as soon as she does. It’s wet and warm and intimate, and makes her eyes cross. 

She collapses against his chest once her own orgasm finishes ravishing her already exhausted body, a blissful smile on her face when his arms come up to wrap around her and hold her tight. 

\---

Just as Cheryl predicted, FP doesn’t remember anything in the morning, and though Betty still sees an obvious attraction in his eyes when he looks at her, it’s a controlled one now, and they’re missing that same passion they held the night before. She’s a little disappointed if she’s being honest, but it’s probably for the best.

But still, they’ll always have that one wild night—well, _she’ll_ have it, anyways—and as she stands on her porch and waves goodbye to a very confused FP Jones, Betty can’t help but wonder if Toni Topaz really would have done everything she did the night before. 

Something tells her that she wouldn’t have, and that thought makes her smile.

And she heads back inside to clean up the mess they made Betty makes a mental note to thank Cheryl for her assistance when she sees her in class on Monday, because FP might not have been the Jones she’d had in mind when casting the spell, but the redhead had been right all along: after years of pining, all Betty really needed to get over Jughead was a good lay, even if it wasn't from him.

**Author's Note:**

> Would very much appreciate it if you hit that kudos button or left a comment if you liked it. Thanks for reading!


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